


orbital decay

by Vespasiana



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Complete, Gen, M/M, Space AU, preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 20:37:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5679892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vespasiana/pseuds/Vespasiana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Tharkay did look at him then, sidelong through his lashes, the display above reflected in perfect miniature in his dark eyes. "The idea is that you must pick a piece of the ring and watch it as it moves into and then out of sight. If it passes all the way across, then your journey will be safe; if it falls towards the planet, then you will be lost to the stars, never to see your home again."</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Laurence found he could not bring himself to look away from Tharkay, momentarily held in his orbit much as the fragments of the ring were held in Guazhou’s.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	orbital decay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thejollymisandrist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejollymisandrist/gifts).



> Written for the 2015 Temeraire Holiday Gift Exchange, for quacnrk. 
> 
> The prompt was "2) Laurence/Tharkay: Space Captains. I'd love to see a sci-fi story that parallels their initial meeting, with Tharkay as a guide (with a tiny falcon ship, perhaps) that has been hired to transport the sentient ship Temeraire through dangerous space to a mysterious wealthy man on a far-away planet. Laurence is uptight, wears proper space jumpsuits. Tharkay is a space outcast, dresses like a space pirate. Sexy sparks fly."
> 
> I maybe veered a bit away from the prompt, but it was too tempting to do BPW in space.

"Temeraire."

Deep below his hand, the engines turned over with a soft hum, but Laurence could feel a hint of curiosity in their familiar rumble.

"Temeraire, my dear, do wake up. It's nearly time to leave, and we need to do your ready check."

Another purr from the engines, this time accompanied by the steady-static flickering of lights as power unfurled through the ship, electricity whispering down cables and brushing against circuits like a wing-tip. Laurence felt the bridge vibrate briefly, a familiar sensation that quickly settled into the soothing silent hum of a ship in motion.

"But Laurence," Temeraire said from just above him, clarion clear and only somewhat petulant, "I still don't see why it's necessary that we do a ready check every time, especially when I'm perfectly capable of just telling you if anything's wrong."

"It's protocol, Temeraire," Laurence said. "And you certainly do not do a ready check every time, despite my best efforts. But this will be a long trip. It certainly won't hurt to double-check."

Temeraire snorted over the speaker nearest Laurence's shoulder; an affectation, as he certainly didn't have the necessary airways to produce the sound himself. He did, however, obligingly turn the centrifugal gravity off, allowing Laurence to float up to the main maintenance panel at the top of the bridge. The panel, like all of the other vital systems of the ship, was keyed solely to Laurence's biometrics, which had caused no amount of frustration in the early days of their partnership, before he'd learned how to properly run maintenance on a Dragon-class. Temeraire had been very unwilling to allow anyone else near his systems, with good reason.

Laurence pressed his thumb to the center of the console, and watched as the pad lit up, a deep, pulsing blue that spread to the other components, like blood pumping through a heart. There was no real need for the display, but Laurence loved the small reminders that Temeraire was truly alive beneath his hand, running hot and bright despite the cold metal plating that covered him like scales.

"Cargo?" A channel of blue split off from one of the secondary components, flowing out of sight under another piece of paneling.

"Clear. All seals are intact, no unauthorized lifesigns detected, cargo weight and contents are consistent with last inventory. All lies well."

"Lower crew chambers?" Another spill of blue, though Laurence didn't think he imagined it zipping off excitedly.

"Clear. All seals are intact, all crew is aboard and accounted for, lifesigns are stable and steady. All lies well."

"Good-"

"Also Lieutenant Granby made a very amusing squawking sound when I started scanning him." Temeraire helpfully played a recording of the sound, which was indeed very amusing and very indignant, though he cut off before John started yelling. "I don't know why he keeps being so surprised, it's not as though he's unused to me or any other Dragon-ships scanning him."

Laurence managed to keep his voice level, though a slightly squirmy smile snuck onto his face nevertheless. "I suspect your bedside manner has something to do with it. Humans very much appreciate a bit of warning about these things, as I've told you."

"Well that's quite silly, he's MY crew and he ought to understand that I'm just keeping a properly close eye on him. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Nothing you do is particularly ordinary, my dear," Laurence said. He would have to check in on Granby later, make sure Temeraire hadn't startled him too badly. "Now, let's move along. Galley?"

"Clear. Seals are intact, crew aboard, provisions stocked and in good condition. All lies well."

Laurence sighed quietly at Temeraire's growing impatience, but it was a fond sound. He could hardly fault him for wanting to be off, especially with the cool politeness the Chinese dignitaries insisted on showering them with every time they went planet-side. For all of China's wonders, it would be good to be back in Britannian space.

"We're almost done, Temeraire," Laurence said. It was patently untrue, but he saw no reason to go over the minutiae of the ship just yet. There would be plenty of time for thoroughness on the journey back. "Engine rooms?"

"Clear. Seals are intact, all parts are moving smoothly, and cynovial pressure is within optimal range. All lies well." Below deck, Laurence felt a brief shudder that meant one of the larger bay doors had opened. "The good doctor did an excellent job replacing that one wire that kept tickling me every time you opened the cargo doors."

"I'm glad to hear it. I don't think any of us want a repeat of last week. Bridge?" The final blue stream pulsed out from Laurence's pressed thumb and split in two, running in opposite directions. He could trace its path through the room by the fluttering blue lights that swept across the wall panelling like twin waves, twirling in perfect mirror of one another before they finally met up above the viewscreen with a silent burst of color. Few would dare accuse Temeraire of being a particularly subtle Dragon-class.

"Clear. All seals are intact, no unauthorized lifesigns detected, and all components are in working order. All lies well."

"Excellent. I suppose that's enough for now." Laurence pulled his thumb off of the maintenance pad and pushed against the panel above him, floating gently back down to the main deck. Temeraire helpfully restarted the gravity just as he landed. "The _Allegiance_ will be arriving soon, I expect. Is there anything else you need before we leave?" He very much did not anticipate returning to China any time soon.

"No, Laurence, I am quite ready." Temeraire uncoupled from the docking station gently. "May I fly around a bit, though? I want to have one last look."

"Of course, my dear," Laurence agreed, already heading for the starboard viewing window.

The mass of stars outside came into view as Temeraire backed out of his station, moving on little more than impulse drives. Laurence tucked a few strands of his hair out of his face and leaned on the railing, watching in little-dimmed awe as Temeraire executed a lazy rolling dive towards Jingjinji’s southern hemisphere. The planet itself was a riotous mass of green and blue, awash with bright streaks of clouds and deep ochre islands of desert - a beautiful sight, but it couldn't hold a candle to the endless abyss of stars behind it, which Temeraire sped out towards with excitement. From their current position on the lateral side of Jingjinji’s orbit, they had an unrivaled view of a relatively nearby supernova, a lurid soup of oranges and reds and purples dotted with multi-colored stars.

Temeraire spun again and slid into high orbit around Jingjinji, easily navigating the minefield of satellites and space debris. He started picking up speed, zipping rapidly into combat maneuvers that even Laurence found himself bracing for. The stars away from the supernova were less immediately awe-inspiring, but both Laurence and Temeraire had spent long enough in the last several months staring at them that they could see the patterns of constellations, soothing in their regularity.

Overhead, one of the speakers clicked on with an accompanying brief sound of feedback that meant Temeraire had helpfully turned the microphone on for him.

"One last joy ride?" Granby asked.

Laurence smiled again. "I could hardly tell him no. You know how he gets."

"Oh, don't act as if you aren't itching to get on the move as well," Granby said. "You've nearly worn a rut on the the bridge with all that pacing."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking again, Lieutenant."

"And I'm sure you don't know a thing about those late-night entries in the Captain's Log either."

"Certainly not."

Granby chuckled lowly, likely along with an eye roll. "Sure. Anyway, Roland just called up from Comms; the _Allegiance_ is heading to dock now, and I expect they'll want us back and ready to leave within the hour."

"Understood. Thank you, John. I shall see you up on the bridge shortly?"

"On my way up now."

"Excellent." The line shut off, and Laurence grudgingly pulled himself away from the viewing window, where an excellent solar-side view of Jingjinji’s smaller cousin Tianjin had just come into range. "Temeraire," he said, taking a moment to pull his zero-G-loosened hair back into its queue, "you heard Granby; back to dock when you've a moment. It's time to go home."

\---

Life in Temeraire's orbit being what it was, however, their best laid plans quickly spiraled out of control, starting with a catastrophic O2 leak in the _Allegiance_. The gas had found a spark in the galley, and torn a hole in her massive hull nearly the size of a Winchester; two crew-members had died in the explosion, and five more had been sucked out into the black void of space.

Without a supply escort or guide, there was no way Temeraire could make the journey back to Britannian space alone; the long, meandering paths through empty space, though reasonably safe and well-travelled, required far more fuel than Temeraire could carry himself, and they had no charts to navigate the unexplored sectors that constituted the most direct route home.

Time was far too much of the essence to simply wait around for the increasingly reluctant Chinese to repair the _Allegiance_ , which was why Laurence found himself both at the end of his wits and, fittingly, the end of the station, where the smaller, less wealthy ships docked. The hub was a far cry from the magnificent docking bays reserved for the Dragon-class ships, and even the slightly less opulent bay the _Allegiance_ had been towed to. Where they had been large and spacious, decorated with fine displays of metalworking and artfully exposed wiring, the common docking bay was barely above fifteen feet in height at its apex, lit by dim, flickering bulbs. There was no art or grandeur in its form, only function, and even that barely clinging to the notion.

Most of the pilots gave Laurence little notice, which was certainly better than the alternative, but did make it difficult to find his way around. The bay was a maze of tacked-on extensions and hallways, marked with colored light panels to denote specific ships' callsigns, which Laurence managed to follow after a fashion. He made his way to a door much like all the others, though marked with the blue-blue-gold he'd been told would lead him to a solution. Surprisingly, the door opened when he put his hand on the panel, and Laurence made his way down the connecting bridge into the interior of the ship itself, where someone was presumably waiting for him.

"Hello?" Though the ship was exceptionally small, no more than 60 feet from end to end, Laurence couldn't see any sign of the her pilot. "My name is Captain Laurence, I was told I could charter a guide here."

From below deck, Laurence suddenly heard a scuffling sound, followed quickly by the grating of metal on metal as a piece of the floor paneling lifted up. A man, presumably the ship's pilot, emerged from the hatch and fixed Laurence with a dark, piercing stare.

"You can, and I suspect I know precisely who told you that." The man did not seem much pleased by the idea, but Laurence had the impression that he was a gruff sort of fellow in any event, as he'd been similarly curt the last time they'd met.

"Oh! I hadn't realized--"

"That I'd brought you the very message that necessitated your hasty retreat back to Britannia? Don't trouble yourself overly much, I'm quite accustomed to being forgettable." The pilot--and his name still escaped Laurence--was half in a space-side maintenance suit, which was open and down around his waist, leaving his torso clad in only an undershirt, his golden skin streaked with oil and grease. He turned away from Laurence and began closing up some of the open maintenance panels along the starboard side of the ship. "I presume you're here to hire me as a guide to take you through the Tibetan Intersystem Region, as even your magnificent Dragon-class cannot make the traditional route back without the _Allegiance_ to haul fuel."

Laurence tried very hard to keep from scowling, but couldn't quite help the way his voice tightened. "You presume correctly, sir. I can pay you half now, and the rest upon our safe arrival in Britannia, plus more if you prove yourself worthy of it."

The pilot gave him another one of those dark stares over his shoulder, this time accompanied by the faintest sharp upturning of his lips. "Truly, I endeavor for nothing more than to be judged and not found wanting." He slammed a final panel shut and turned briskly towards the bridge, wisely not waiting for Laurence's reply. "I accept your offer. Ready your affairs and crew; the _Bāja_ and I will be ready to depart at your earliest convenience."

He closed the bridge door behind him, and Laurence, after a few seconds of mute shock, took his cue and left, stiff-backed and fuming.

\--

Back in the familiar comfort of Temeraire's bridge, Laurence tried his best to put the pilot's--Tharkay's, that was his name--foul attitude from his mind, so that he could focus on the journey before them. Even several days later, with Tharkay already installed on board, the mere memory of his sneer was enough to send Laurence into a curl of frustration.

"Laurence?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"How long will this trip take now?" Temeraire sounded curious, as usual, but somewhat depressed.

Laurence looked up from the reports he was reading over--damage estimates on the _Allegiance_ , supplies on hand, cargo manifests, that damned report Tharkay had brought--and glanced over at the speaker Temeraire was using. It was hard to break the habit of looking at someone during conversation, even if that someone was a Dragon-class. "Depending on travel conditions and the skill of our guide, hopefully no more than a few weeks."

"Are there no warp points we can take?"

"None that won't drop us right into enemy territory. This is a long journey no matter how we travel, be it warp or FTL." And damn Napoleon for forcing them into such a roundabout route in either case.

Another imitated sigh from Temeraire. "I understand. Only, I wish we didn't have to leave Riley and the others behind. I don't think getting the _Allegiance_ fixed will be very easy, even if the Emperor is helping."

"I'm sure they'll be well looked after, and they will make good time back to Britannia once they set off." 

“I will miss the crew, though.” Temeraire paused, and made a sound that Laurence suspected was his attempt at signifying a cocked head. "Laurence, were we expecting visitors?"

Laurence stood and looked out the viewport. There were several small ships approaching. "No, not that I'm aware."

Even as he was watching, horror rising in his throat, the lead craft fired an EMP torpedo directly at Temeraire's exposed side. The whole ship rocked with the impact, which wasn't large enough to do any real damage, but did disrupt Temeraire's functionality long enough for the raiders to slip into the open hangar bay while the force field was down.

"Lau-ence!" Temeraire's voice crackled unsteadily over all the speakers at once, staticky and weak as his systems righted themselves. "They're in the hangar!"

"Are you alright?" Laurence was already drawing his blaster and heading for the emergency stairwell. Temeraire would have already shut down the elevators.

"I'm fine, no damage done. I've closed off the hangar so they can't get away. Shall I call the guards?"

"Call them," though they were too far on the edge of the dock for a swift response, "and have Granby meet me down on deck two. Make sure the rest of the crew is safe!"

Laurence didn't wait for a response, only ran down the several flights of stairs fast enough that he hardly touched one step in three. The boarding ships had had no markings on them, which didn't preclude their being more isolationist stragglers, but he doubted they were: no Chinese would risk injuring a Celestial, no matter that he had sided with Western interests. French, then, or some enterprising third party who saw only an unguarded Dragon-ship and not an international incident waiting to happen.

The lower levels, when he reached them, were on full emergency lockdown, lights gone red and klaxons blaring periodically. He couldn't hear any fighting yet, but the heavy sound of footsteps seemed to echo down every corridor he passed. Just how many were there?

"Temeraire, where is--oh!" Laurence very nearly ran into Granby, who was barefoot and without a jacket.

"Will!" Granby grabbed him and pulled him into a nearby supply closet, blaster still trained on the door. "Is Temeraire alright? Has anyone been injured?"

"No, the upper levels are still secure, and Temeraire hasn't taken any real damage. Have you engaged them yet?"

Granby shook his head. "I've taken a few shots at their flanks, mostly as they ran past me, but they've not managed to hunt me down yet. No idea who they are, no uniforms, but they look local. More trouble from the isolationists?"

"Unlikely, they wouldn't risk hurting Temeraire. They're probably just after an easy hit."

Granby smirked at him, his dark hair wild about his face. "Well then, we ought to disabuse them of that notion."

Laurence grinned back, and unholstered his shock sword. "A fine plan, John. I'll sweep left, you right, we'll meet up by A storage."

"Aye, Captain." Granby ducked out of the room, blaster up, footsteps silent on the well-insulated flooring.

Laurence followed suit in the opposite direction, sword arm trailing relaxed at his side. The hallways down on the hangar level were maze-like and monstrously difficult to navigate, and though he couldn't risk Temeraire telling him where the invaders were, he ought to have little issue sneaking up on them. He knew Temeraire's corridors by heart, could walk them in his sleep.

At the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps, he stopped short at a corner, drawing up against the wall as several raiders ran past him. They were dressed in a collection of repurposed spacewear, close-fitting and likely lined with deflectors, and the heavy steel rings around their collars indicated a built in atmosphere hood. Spacing them would be a back-up plan, then though Laurence was not particularly in favor of the non-lethal option. They had shot at Temeraire, and were almost certainly looking to capture him for some nefarious purpose, none of which sat well with Laurence.

He ducked out as the last of the group, perhaps 4 in all, passed by, and fired several shots into the center of mass of the last of them. Despite the deflectors, the raider went down hard, skidding comically along the floor and coming to a stop in a crumpled heap. Laurence didn't spare them a second glance, and fired several more times. None of the second volley hit, but it served its purpose as a distraction, allowing him to close the distance and engage them in melee, where their blasters would be mostly useless.

He charged, sword held at his side, battle cry echoing off the walls. In the flickering red emergency lights, Laurence fancied he could see fear, or at least some very fitting surprise, flit across the bandits' faces.

The first invader went down as Laurence caught him with an upward slash, body convulsing. The third, a bit further back, fired wildly and missed, her shot taking out an overhead light, sending a shower of sparks down on them all. Laurence followed his swing through with a wide attack towards the second's side, which was predictably parried, but did allow him to jam the muzzle of his blaster directly into the bandit's exposed torso. He fired once, and the raider jerked and collapsed with a small grunt and the smell of burnt flesh.

He turned his attention to the third and final enemy, who had wisely holstered her blaster and drawn a shock sword of her own. They charged at one another, Laurence opening with a downward feint. As soon as the raider had prepared to block, he swiveled quickly on the balls of his feet and turned the blow into a twisting jab at her center of mass. She turned aside just in time to avoid incapacitation, but not fast enough to dodge entirely, and the tip of his blade caught her arm. The limb went limp, sword clattering to the floor, and she jumped back, awkwardly drawing and firing her blaster in a frantic attempt to stop Laurence's advance. The shot went wild, clipping the edge of Laurence's shoulder but, in his battle-rush, doing little to slow him down. He knocked the blaster from her hand easily, and finished her off with a backswing to the torso.

Laurence kept moving, footsteps heavier but no less hurried, with only the sound of his own harsh breathing to cancel out the quieted emergency sirens. He could hear sounds of blaster fire elsewhere on the floor, but the winding nature of the corridors made it difficult to pinpoint exactly where. Granby could certainly take care of himself, though, and now that he had a better idea of their armaments, Laurence felt confident making a beeline for the main control panel near the hangar doors. Armed only with blasters, the raiders likely depended on surprise and numbers to overwhelm their targets, both of which were easily countered by the sort of training and experience Laurence and his officers could bring to bear.

As he suspected, the main control panel, located in a larger, more open section of corridor, was heavily guarded by the invaders, a few of whom were attempting to override the biolocks on Temeraire's systems. Unlikely, but still unpleasant, and Laurence happily used his surprise advantage to take one of them down. Though satisfying, he did then find himself with more than half a dozen blasters turned abruptly in his direction, and immediately had to take cover behind a stack of heavy metal crates.

"Temeraire! Are the turrets active on this level?"

"No, Laurence," Temeraire replied from overhead, having regained fine control over his output systems. "My lockdown protocols disable everything except life support and lighting. I can't do anything." He sounded frustrated and bit put out, which Laurence could certainly sympathize with.

"It's alright, dear, I can figure something out. Do you know where Lieutenant Granby is?"

"He's still on the starboard side, I think. There's a lot of bandits over there, but less than there were before, and Granby's lifesigns are good."

"Damn! Well, at least he's not hurt." The problem now became how to disable so many enemies without backup--doable, certainly, but Laurence didn't fancy spending the first few weeks of their journey in the infirmary.

His dilemma was solved by the sound of a body hitting the floor, nearly covered up by the hum of blaster fire. Laurence cautiously looked around the crates, and saw, like a ripple, the raiders turning around, starting with those farthest from him. He couldn't see precisely why, but he wasn't about to miss so easy an opening. Laurence fired into the group as he charged again, catching one unlucky bandit square in the back. Several others turned their blasters towards him, but it was too late--he was close enough to bring his shock sword up, and quickly cut a twitching swath through their ranks.

Laurence lost his blaster at some point, which hardly bothered him, as it allowed him to use his saber two-handed. He was distantly aware of the searing burn of another glancing blow, this time to his side, but his momentum easily carried him through the pain.

"Captain Laurence!" A familiar voice called out over the melee, and though Laurence did not immediately recognize the speaker, he changed direction and headed towards it, only just dodging a wild swing with the butt end of someone's blaster. Surprisingly, Laurence found himself side-by-side with Tharkay, who had two raiders down at his feet and, as Laurence approached, took out another with a vicious jab of his dagger to his enemy's gut. "Are you injured?"

"No. Yourself?" Laurence parried a riot staff blow, and riposted with a downing blow of his own. Tharkay was hardly his first choice of ally, but he seemed a competent fighter, which was good enough for the time being.

"Superficial." Laurence could see blood trickling down Tharkay's face from a scalp wound. "The Lieutenant is engaged with the other half of their forces--" Tharkay ducked under another wild swing, and grabbed his opponent's knee with his open palm. The point of contact sparked noisily, and the raider went down in a heap. "I suspect this is the last of them."

Laurence blocked another attack, and rammed his elbow into the unguarded side of a different enemy. "Understood." Unsurprisingly, Tharkay proved to be an excellent fighter, agile and brutal, his fluid movements inevitably leading into pointed assaults the second a weak spot opened up, and together they managed to kill or disable the raiders in little time.

As the last invader fell bleeding to the floor, Laurence sheathed his sword and took a moment to catch his suddenly labored breathing. The adrenaline from the fight quickly drained away, leaving him feeling shaky and exhausted, though he knew the entire assault from stairs to control panel had taken barely fifteen minutes. Beside him, Tharkay was breathing heavily as well, though he made no pretense at discipline, and leaned against the wall.

"What--How did you get down here?" Laurence was acutely aware of the damage he'd taken, none of which was serious but all of it painful.

"I was already here, checking on the _Bāja_." Tharkay slid his dagger back into some mysterious sheath under his jacket and wiped the half-dried blood out of his eyes. "Retreated back into the corridors after the EMP hit."

"And you say you saw the Lieutenant?"

"Yes, though he was engaged when I found him. He told me to keep going and meet you back here."

"I see." Very like John, though Laurence found himself wishing it had been the other way around and Granby was instead at his side instead of Tharkay, who was still cold and unfamiliar. "Well, I thank you for your assistance. You have my most sincere gratitude."

Tharkay waved a dismissive hand and pushed himself off the wall. "Keep your gratitude; I'd prefer it if you kept a tighter watch on your ship."

As Laurence stood in mute shock at his rudeness, Tharkay prodded one of the raiders with his foot, eliciting a weak groan. "This was poorly coordinated, but they breached your defenses even so." He turned his dark gaze back towards Laurence, the smeared gore and still-flashing emergency lights highlighting the wildness of his expression. "Once we're underway, attacks like these will not be so forgiving."

Laurence didn't think he imagined the sneer in Tharkay's voice, though the lighting made it hard to see. He grit his teeth. "Is that a warning, Mr. Tharkay, or a promise?"

Tharkay's expression briefly flickered in what might have been surprise, but it was gone before Laurence could identify it. "Neither, _Captain Laurence_ , merely a statement of fact." He looked Laurence up and down, voice sharper and more defensive. "Tighten your guard or you will not make it through black space. Now if you'll excuse me, I must tend to _my_ ship."

Laurence took several angry steps towards Tharkay, as he was very much _not_ excused, but was interrupted by a shout from behind him.

"Will!" Granby called out, "Are you alright? Are they finished?"

"Yes, we took care of them easily enough," Laurence replied, turning towards his Lieutenant. "I assume you cleared them out from the starboard corridors?"

Granby nodded and brushed his hair out of his face. Laurence was relieved to see that he was not bleeding visibly, but then John was generally a more cautious fighter. "That should have been all of them, and I suspect the guards will be here soon enough to help mop up. What in the blazes did they hope to accomplish, attacking a ship like Temeraire?"

"I haven't the slightest idea, though they were trying to override the biolocks, for all the good that would do. At least they were poorly armed; Mr. Tharkay and I had little trouble clearing them out before they could do anything seriously damaging. Thank you for sending him over in your stead."

Granby blinked at him. "Mr. Tharkay? Why, I never saw him. I thought you had found him."

"But--" Laurence stopped, surprised, and turned back to Tharkay, but he had long since retreated back into the hangar.

\--

"--and I hardly see how I will be able to stand him for the eternity this trip is likely to take. I certainly hope he is as good as our contact says, as he seems bound and determined to drive me to madness before we even leave China."

Granby didn't even bother looking up from the ship's manifest he was pouring over, only caught Laurence's wrist as he paced by his chair for the third time. "Don't let him get to you, Will; he's only needling you because you puff up so satisfyingly in reaction."

Laurence stilled himself, grounded by John's reassuring grip, and let out a gust of frustrated breath. "I don't appreciate being prodded at like some sort of novel toy."

"Perhaps you should stop squawking like once, then."

He fixed Granby with a withering stare, which produced only a small smile and an upturned palm. "He's not a bad sort of fellow, honestly. You just have to keep an even temper when he starts feeling prickly."

"I wasn't aware you two were such close friends," Laurence said dryly.

John shrugged and returned to his tablet. "I wouldn't call us friends, necessarily, but we get on after a fashion. He's beastly at cards, but very good at plying me with alcohol until I am too."

Laurence reminded himself that he couldn't order his First Officer to stop speaking to Tharkay, as that would be an unprofessional sort of interference in Granby's personal affairs, and besides it wasn't as if he was likely to run off and become a moorless wanderer aboard the _Bāja_ ; for one, there wasn't enough space for two on Tharkay's tiny ship.

"That would explain why you were so hungover last Wednesday, and Mr. Tharkay so smug. Is he why you've suddenly only got two pairs of boots?"

"It's....possible," Granby said, evasive.

"Laurence," Temeraire interrupted from overhead, "we're almost to Anxi, and Mr. Tharkay said we need to get supplies there before we head further on."

"I thought the plan was to do our supply run later, in Wuwei. Why the sudden change?"

"Because," Tharkay answered from behind him, "the solar wind is heavier right now than I anticipated, and I don't want to get caught in a sunstorm without proper equipment on hand."

Laurence turned towards Tharkay, who was leaning indolently in the doorway to the officers mess. How he'd made it in without alerting anyone and how long he'd been standing there, Laurence couldn't say, though he suspected Temeraire was involved. It was more than a bit frustrating that even his Dragon-ship got on better with Tharkay than he did.

Tharkay was looking over the mess with a calculatedly casual expression, arms crossed over his chest. He still wore his skin-tight undersuit, zipped to just below the hollow of his clavicle, and his usual assortment of tool belts and pouches, despite the fact that his ship was stored on the flight deck of Temeraire's great belly. The outfit set him apart, perhaps intentionally, from the planet-side style of clothing favored by the rest of the crew.

"We've plenty of supplies on board still," Laurence protested, glancing up to meet Tharkay's hooded glance, "I don't see why we need to waste time overstocking for a two-day stretch of space."

"I don't like being unprepared, but I suppose it's technically your call." Tharkay shot Laurence another one of his tight smirks, challenging and enormously irritating. "I'll defer to your expert judgement, Captain."

Laurence tried very hard not to grind his teeth in frustration. "If there are any supplies you think we are missing, let the quartermaster know and I'll send him down."

Tharkay chuckled and gave an elaborate bow, leg out. He was wearing Granby's boots, Laurence noticed. "I am honored that you find my suggestions worthy of such consideration, Captain. If I may make one more," he continued, again wisely not waiting for Laurence's response, "it is customary for travelers passing this outpost to indulge in some small ceremony, for good luck, as this is the last Chinese outpost before we venture into unclaimed space. Some members of your crew have already expressed an interest in something of the sort--"

"And you'd be more than happy to show us this particular tradition, I'm sure; thank you kindly for volunteering, Mr. Tharkay."

Frustratingly, Tharkay smiled again, sly and masking, at Laurence's snapped interruption. "We'll be on the observation deck if you'd like to join us, Captain, Lieutenant." He nodded at Granby, gave a mocking half-salute at Laurence, and then was gone.

\--

Though he wasn't proud to admit it, Laurence managed to avoid going to the observation deck for nearly half an hour, at which point he realized he was acting like a fool and worse, letting Tharkay get to him. It was hardly his finest moment, but that was becoming a depressingly common pattern; he would attempt to assert his dignity to Tharkay, trying to demand respect by way of calm leadership, only for Tharkay to turn his mannerisms back on him like a mirror, mocking him with some puffed up caricature of propriety, after which he would leave Laurence a fuming, humiliated mess, throwing him further into unsteady footing, and the cycle would begin anew. Laurence hadn't been entirely exaggerating when complained of being driven to madness. He would just have to hope that he could hold out until Istanbul.

By the time he had finally steeled himself enough to head up, most of the crew was already there, scattered around in small groups under the vast open dome of Temeraire's observation deck. The lights were off, leaving only the bright wash of the moon they orbited to push back the blackness of open space. Laurence stood off to one side, happy to bask in the eerie blue glow of Anxi and listen to the quiet murmurings of his crew all around him. Anxi was one of many satellites trapped by the gas giant, Guazhou, though it was the only inhabitable one, and was bracketed on either side by the pulverized remains of its less fortunate brethren, a microsystem in delicate balance.

The gas giant was behind them, casting red shadows on the moon and the icy particles of its outer ring far behind it. The ring sparkled blue and red as the reflected light caught it, creating a dizzying display. Further on, larger pieces of the ring would periodically be sucked out by Guazhou’s massive gravity and streak past them as shooting stars, burning brightly on their flight towards oblivion.

Laurence felt a great deal of the frustration from the last several weeks dissipate at the sight, unspooling from around his spine in a single gentle exhale of awe.

"Have you found yours yet?" Tharkay whispered, suddenly at his side. Laurence tensed in preparation for another exhausting experience, but Tharkay's voice held no hidden sneer, and he was staring at the stars, seemingly as lost in the sight as everyone else.

"I beg your pardon?"

Tharkay did look at him then, sidelong through his lashes, the display above reflected in perfect miniature in his dark eyes. "The idea is that you must pick a piece of the ring and watch it as it moves into and then out of sight. If it passes all the way across, then your journey will be safe; if it falls towards the planet, then you will be lost to the stars, never to see your home again." He smirked then, thought it was closer to a true smile than Laurence had seen before. "A foolish superstition, of course, but it certainly does not lack for obvious symbolism."

Laurence found he could not bring himself to look away from Tharkay, momentarily held in his orbit much as the fragments of the ring were held in Guazhou. He whispered, unwilling to disturb the atmosphere. "And how fared your chosen representative?"

Tharkay turned back towards the window, traces of a smirk still lingering at the corner of his mouth. "I have no celestial representative. I don't have a single stationary home to go back to, so it seems silly to participate." Before Laurence could formulate a reply, Tharkay grabbed his elbow and slid in close, speaking at a bare murmur. "There," he said, pointing, "that one can be yours."

Laurence followed Tharkay's finger and saw a large piece of icy debris floating through the dead center of the ring, brushing some of the smaller satellites aside as it traveled. He inhaled, preparing a sharp retort to such a mockingly inelegant choice, when the debris in question suddenly wrenched free and began streaking in towards the planet. Its tail stretched out behind it as a bright streak, rendering it all the more magnificent when it got caught in the smaller orbit of Anxi instead of heading directly for Guazhou. The comet spun around the moon in a lazy spiral, leaving bright trails of burning debris behind as it disintegrated in Anxi’s atmosphere. There was nothing left to impact with the moon itself, only a last burst of light as the comet burnt itself out.

The whole drama took maybe ten minutes to complete. A hush had descended upon the crew; Laurence suspected that that had not been a particularly reassuring omen, and indeed, he felt somewhat unsettled himself. Tharkay, still gripping his bicep, though his other hand had since been lowered, was the first to break the silence, whispering nearly directly into Laurence's ear.

"Well, I haven't seen _that_ before."

Laurence shivered, still staring at the fading spiral wrapped around Anxi.

\---

Despite Tharkay's caution, the next few days of travel were fairly uneventful, though they did spot the tail end of a sunstorm raging past a few parsecs away. Laurence had watched it go by from the bridge in all its golden splendor, quick as lightening and exponentially more powerful. He'd never encountered one before, though he'd read about them often enough to know the dangers: total system shut down, an EMP pulse a hundred thousand miles wide.

Their next stop, a small docking station tethered to an equally small ice planet at the far end of the local star's chain, was their most crucial, as it would be the last chance for supplies until they reached the next system. Even at FTL, the going would be slow and take several weeks, or so he'd been promised. His personal knowledge on the matter was lacking significantly, which was no small source of irritation, though he supposed that that was precisely why he'd hired a guide.

"Ferris, would you call down to quarters and ask Mr. Tharkay to come up to the bridge when he has a moment?"

"Yes, sir, only..."

"Only?"

"Well, Mr. Tharkay isn't in quarters, sir. The only signatures I'm picking up down there are the ensigns and Lieutenant Granby and--."

"Temeraire," Laurence sighed, "Do you happen to know where Mr. Tharkay has wandered off to?" One of the many benefits of a sentient ship was that it was very difficult to stow away.

"Oh, he's down in cargo again, Laurence. Shall I call him up?"

"He's--What the devil is he doing down in cargo?" The _Bāja_ , and presumably all of Tharkay's possessions, was stored in the hangar, a deck below. "Lieutenant, you have the bridge."

Laurence walked, calmly, into the elevator, as confused as he was irritated. He hadn't specifically forbade Tharkay from going into the cargo bay, but neither had he shown him to it during his tour of the ship. There wasn't much of interest in the bay in any event, mostly just the supplies they'd picked up on Tharkay's insistence. "Temeraire, did you say he was in cargo _again_?"

"Yes, he's been through a few times since we left Wuwei. He asked if he could double check that everything was secured and accounted for, and I thought that seemed quite reasonable so I let him in. Was that not alright?" Temeraire seemed faintly concerned, and Laurence hurried to reassure him.

"No, my dear, that was quite reasonable indeed." Very reasonable, which soothed some of his metaphorically ruffled feathers. "I only want to make sure Mr. Tharkay hasn't found a problem and perhaps neglected to bring to my attention." Surely Temeraire would notice if Tharkay was doing anything untoward.

The elevator opened onto the bay in question. It was a massive room that took up most of the aft section of its level, though a large portion of it was still empty. Oddly enough, the emergency lighting was on, casting most of the bay into gloomy shadows broken only by a few points of red light along the walls and high in the ceiling. Laurence could also see that several stacks of crating had been rearranged since he had last been down, and there was a quiet, repetitive sound coming from somewhere in the bay, though the echo effect of its high ceiling made it difficult to pinpoint.

"Temeraire," he started, walking further into the darkened bay, "would you turn the overheads on?" The lights flickered obediently to life. "Thank you."

From off to his right, a now-familiar voice rose above some of the stacked crates. "Ah, so that's how they turn on."

Laurence headed directly for the voice, and was utterly unsurprised to round the corner and find Tharkay standing there with a flashlight in hand. What did rather surprise him was that the box before him was open, its contents, though still neatly stacked, clearly rummaged through.

"Mr. Tharkay, I must insist that you explain yourself, and quickly." He did not much want to put his only guide in holding, but neither was he comfortable with near-strangers rifling through vital supplies.

Tharkay only looked at him, one dark brow arched into a perfect expression of neutral disdain. "Or you'll throw me in the brig? Worry not, Captain, I'm only rechecking inventory." He lifted his other hand, which held one of the tablets kept in the cargo bay specifically for that purpose. "Hardly anything untoward."

"Hardly," he repeated dryly, "but I do find it untoward that you are down here without permission, skulking about in the dark--"

"Like some kind of thief, yes, but, as I explained--"

"Which doesn't explain why you didn't think to tell me, or why you didn't bother turning the lights on."

Tharkay sighed and turned the flashlight off, then hoisted it in his tool belt. "Somewhat embarrassingly, I couldn't find the manual switch, and didn't think to bother Temeraire to do it for me. You'll forgive me, I hope, for not being completely accustomed to Dragon-class ships."

Though Laurence bristled at the sarcasm, he was determined not to let Tharkay goad him into an outburst. "And what of this 'rechecking inventory' business? As I recall, you checked it over quite thoroughly when we bought it, and had no issue with it then."

"Well, it's hardly polite to root through someone's merchandise looking for tracking chips right in front of them." He held up a hand, rudely cutting Laurence off. "And no, I haven't found any, but a little healthy paranoia goes a long way, especially when the rarest Dragon-ship in the galaxy is transporting an Imperial Prince across the blackest reaches of space."

"The latter hardly signifies," Laurence scowled. "Temeraire, has anything been removed from the cargo bay, by Mr. Tharkay or anyone else on board?"

"No, Laurence," Temeraire replied, somewhat puzzled. Tharkay smirked and spread his hands out in front of himself, palms up. "Everything's right where it ought to be. Mr. Tharkay is telling the truth, as far as I'm aware."

Tharkay stepped towards him, thumbs hooked in his belt loops, not yet in Laurence's personal space, but close enough that he could see the fine, even stitching on the patches of his jacket. "Satisfied, Captain?"

Not one to back down from a challenge, Laurence stepped forward as well, elbows gripped firmly behind his back, spine ramrod straight. "For the time being." He looked Tharkay up and down disdainfully, his sole concession to temper. "But I will be keeping an eye on you, Mr. Tharkay. See to it that you do not give me further cause for suspicion."

Laurence turned on his heel and walked away, not trusting himself to remain level-headed much longer. As he reached the elevator, though, Tharkay called out to him, his voice firm and, for once, perfectly serious.

"Have you ever been in a sunstorm, Laurence?" He didn't wait for a reply, nor did he move closer. "Not just a solar flare, but a true sunstorm, out here in the black? No?" Laurence stared at the elevator door, shoulders taut. "You don't want to be, trust me on that. Even if you're prepared, even if you know it's coming, it will consume you, burn through your ship and leave you dead in the water. Dragon-ships aren't immune either, though they've at least got the sense to brace for it. All you can do it wait it out, and hope everything comes back online before your oxygen runs out."

"I will take your advice under consideration, Mr. Tharkay," Laurence replied, finally stepping into the elevator. "If indeed we do run afoul of a sunstorm, I can only hope you'll be kind enough to lend us your expertise." He turned again, facing back into the cargo bay as the doors began to close, and had just enough time to catch a glimpse of Tharkay's expression, cold and undecipherable as the void.

\---

The sunstorm hit them a week later, though they'd known it was coming for two days prior. Tharkay, up on the bridge to help plot their course, had given Laurence an exquisitely neutral look when Temeraire made the announcement, and were Laurence a lesser man, he'd have entertained the notion of calling him out.

But he was a Captain, and a gentleman, and thus only spared Tharkay a deeply unamused glare before dealing with the crisis.

"Temeraire, open channel to the whole ship. I need everyone on battle alert until this storm hits. Gunnery, divert to engineering for system checks, and make sure back-up power and life support are absolutely without issue." As the rest of his officers swarmed around him, Laurence turned to Granby. "Lieutenant, make sure personal life support stations are operating properly, then see about directing work down in engineering."

"Yes, sir." Granby shot him a firm salute and took off, grabbing two sergeants on his way out.

"Everyone else, check seals in quarters, and prepare for combat shifts. Engineering will take first ship's watch at 2100 hours."

"Captain, if I may..." Tharkay had returned his attention to the map projection, but he was clearly keeping an eye on the activity around him as well.

"Yes, Mr. Tharkay?"

"You ought to also send a team down to the hangar to secure the ships. Sunstorms can hit even Dragon-classes harder than you might think."

It was sound advice, and Laurence said as much, though he was somewhat irritated that he hadn't thought of it himself. "I'll send someone down as soon as shifts start."

Tharkay shrugged, presumably satisfied, and went back to his maps.

The next two days were calm and regimented, a sign of his crew's sharp discipline, but undercut with by a fine tremor of fear. No one aboard the ship but Tharkay had been anywhere near a sunstorm before, and anticipation of the unknown was only amplified by their isolated position. Even Granby was uneasy, spending much of his break shifts in the officers mess with a bottle of wine.

"Will," he remarked at one point, "what do you think will happen to us if we can't get Tem up and running again on schedule?"

Laurence looked up from the latest batch of engineering reports. "Then we'll go into backup life support and keep working."

"Yes, but _what if_? I mean, none of us have ever been through one of these sunstorms before, except Tharkay."

"And Mr. Tharkay is an expert. He's been through more of these than I suspect anyone else we could have hired."

"But you don't really _trust_ him, do you?" Granby pointed out; literally even, waving a wavering finger in Laurence's direction.

"You seem to like him well enough, Lieutenant," Laurence prevaricated.

Granby shook his head. "I'm not the Captain, though. Do _you_ trust him?"

"I--" He hesitated, thinking simultaneously of Tharkay's suspicious behavior, how easily they'd fought side by side, and the way Guazhou’s rings had reflected in his eyes. "I trust Mr. Tharkay to safely navigate this hazard."

Granby, perhaps wisely, said nothing, and returned his attention to the viewport and its exquisite view of the approaching sunstorm, golden and seething.

When the storm did finally hit, they were well prepared for the initial shock of impact, a thousand billion burning particles of stardust breaking against Temeraire's massive bulk like a tsunami, and the searing roar of the storm itself, loud enough to leave their ears ringing as its echos found their way into an atmosphere. Not one crewmember, Laurence was pleased to note, panicked, nor lost their grip, nor cried out in fear, and for a few moments he was optimistic that they would get through with minimal issue.

Nothing, however, could have prepared them for the EM wave that followed the particle storm. It had no physical effect on Temeraire, but as it brushed up against him every electronic system overloaded in a massive, crippling shudder of sparks. Temeraire screamed in agony as his systems died one by one, and Laurence felt himself die along with him, every crackling roar of pain over the speakers echoing beneath his ribs and in his throat.

The gravity went out first, and Laurence adjusted his grip on the emergency handle as he slowly started to drift upwards.

"Hold steady!" He cried out, vision blurred. They had only to get through the EM wave, and the storm would be gone. "Hold!"

It seemed to last an eternity, though he knew that it was only a bare few moments. The ship went dark as the storm finally passed, and from somewhere in the bridge Laurence could hear someone weeping softly, in fear or possibly sorrow. Though he knew Temeraire would be fine, having retreated to his unassailable core, Laurence felt much like crying himself. Temeraire's screams still rang in his ears, and he suspected they would be there until Temeraire was up and speaking again.

Right on schedule, the emergency lighting came on, illuminating the bridge in an eerie red glow. The cosmetic damage was minimal, but several screens hadn't even rebooted into low-power mode, likely because they had been entirely burnt out, and it was only a matter of time before the icy cold of black space began to seep through Temeraire's hull, even with his insulation. The O2 scrubbers, at least, would run reasonably well on back-up power, though they'd need to be manually cycled every few hours.

"Sound off!" Laurence ordered, voice bouncing oddly around the bridge.

As each of the officers called out in turn, Laurence hooked himself into the higher railings, where it would be easier to move around and see his crew. Granby followed, and hooked his straps in as soon as he settled. Tharkay, oddly enough, was close behind. Laurence didn’t recall seeing him on the bridge before the storm hit.

"All present and accounted for, Captain."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Send out orders for phase one, and see if you can get some of the engineering team up here. I think the storm blew several screens."

"Aye. Stations! Ensign Roland, go tell engineering we need someone up here once they've finished repairs, then check in with cargo. I want reports within half an hour." Emily saluted sharply and scurried off down the maintenance shaft, which was far too small for any of the adults to manage. "Mr. Tharkay, could you help Lieutenant Granby in running system checks, and then meet me down in the core?"

Tharkay looked at him oddly for a brief moment, but then nodded, serious and cooperative, and floated back down to the main bridge walkway.

As Granby continued barking orders to the rest of the crew, Laurence unhooked his carabiners and pulled himself down the hallway to the core shaft. Normally inaccessible from above, the utter lack of power and gravity now meant that Laurence could easily flip upside down, brace his feet on what was normally the ceiling, and kick off down the darkened shaft.

The lower parts of the ship were rarely accessed, even by Laurence, though he did occasionally come down to the core to read to Temeraire on long flights. It was generally an intimate affair, just him and Temeraire's unguarded center, glowing blue and electric behind an impenetrable plexiglass sheet. Down in the core, Temeraire could even project himself a bit, on a series of nearby surfaces designed specifically for that. He generally manifested as a reptile-like creature, winged and spiny, likely his idea of what a mythical dragon might have looked like, but sometimes he was a small human, not quite a child, with dark hair and quick eyes.

He was not present at all when Laurence initially tapped on his glass. The core, nearly twice his height and equally as wide, was barely glowing, emitting only the barest hint of blue glow. It pulsed softly in response to Laurence's knocking, which reassured him that Temeraire was alive, but he would likely be in sleep mode for a while yet while he recovered.

Laurence pressed up against the glass, heart aching as he slowed his breathing down to the same steady throb of Temeraire's core. He'd known this was coming, they all had, but it didn't make it any easier to watch his Dragon-class in what was, effectively, a coma, and know that it had been his decision that lead to it.

"He'll be fine in a few days," Tharkay said quietly from behind him.

Laurence turned only enough to note Tharkay's location, then refocused on Temeraire. "I certainly hope so, for all our sakes." He stared at the core for a few more heartbeats, and then managed to turn away. He couldn't afford to watch Temeraire for the entire length of his recovery. He would have to trust that things would improve with time. "So, what's your assessment on damages so far, compared to what you've seen in previous storms?"

Tharkay had been staring at Temeraire's core too, and he lingered on it before meeting Laurence's eyes. "It's certainly not the worst I've seen, but we have more than enough work to do. Someone needs to check in the cargo bay, make sure that first hit didn't destroy anything. If we can get through these first few hours, get the life support and insulation stabilized properly, the rest is just waiting, but it's going to be a long few days."

"I understand." Laurence took a deep breath and squared his shoulders off. He'd been putting off talking to Tharkay properly for days now, but pettiness was no longer a luxury he could afford. "Mr. Tharkay, while we've had our...disagreements in the past, I hope I can count on you to put that aside and work towards restoring the ship." When Tharkay's calm, even sympathetic expression started curdling into a sneer, Laurence quickly tried again. "That is to say, you are a vital part of this operation, and your expertise is not only something I hope to count on, but absolutely necessary to our survival."

Tharkay arched a cool brow at him, though the sneer had receded and he seemed hesitantly accepting of Laurence's olive branch. "You say this as though I have much of a choice at this point, trapped as I am on the same half dead ship as you."

Laurence flushed, though in anger or shame he wasn't entirely sure. "I also mean to thank you for your perseverance thus far. I appreciate your staying with us, even when it became obvious that this journey would be a difficult one."

Tharkay seemed prepared to provoke him into an argument, upset yet again by something Laurence had or hadn't said, but seemed to reconsider at the last moment. "I accept your...apology, if that is what it is." Though still cool in his voice and mannerisms, Tharkay relaxed his shoulders slightly, willing to manage at least a temporary truce.

"I am glad to hear it, Mr. Tharkay. Now, if I might trouble you, I would like to ask for your assistance in putting together a small group of people to sit shifts with Temeraire until he awakens."

This time, Tharkay was out and out surprised, and stared at Laurence with a hint of his previous suspicion. "Not that I am not flattered, Captain, but shouldn't that be a task for yourself, or perhaps Lieutenant Granby?"

Laurence smiled, though it was admittedly wryer than he intended. "He seems to enjoy your company well enough, and I know you aren't likely to play favorites with the crew. This will also help me make sure no one is overworking themselves, as we can simply move them to Temeraire duty if necessary."

Tharkay cocked his head to the side, assessing Laurence. "Alright, I'll play babysitter for a bit." He raised his hand, brushing away Laurence's insistence to the contrary. "A joke, Captain. I understand the necessity of R&R, even during a crisis."

"Thank you. I'll take first shift, then, if you don't mind."

"Of course. I'll send Lieutenant Granby down to relieve you in an hour or so." Tharkay nodded shortly at him, and then launched himself back up the core shaft.

Laurence hooked his carabiners to the nearby bar, pulled up a book on his tablet, and began to read aloud in the flickering blue glow of Temeraire's core.

" _Aer duplo densior in duplo spatio quadruplus est. Idem intellige de Nive et Pulveribus per compressionem vel liquefactionem condensati..._ "

\---

The seeping cold became noticeable by the second day. While still quite habitable, thanks both to Temeraire's insulation and the body heat given off by over a hundred frantic crew members, most rooms were significantly cooler than normal, especially those closer to the outside. Laurence's only coat, unfortunately, was his ceremonial captain's jacket, which was covered in a faintly embarrassing number of bars and medals. Granby, Tharkay, and indeed most of the crew had taken to teasing him mercilessly, which Laurence bore as best he could. Any distraction from the precariousness of their situation was welcome, and Laurence saw no shame in inadvertently becoming a source of amusement.

Also promising, Temeraire had already begun showing signs of waking up, glowing brighter by the hour and periodically sending out deep rumbles of mechanical sound--his version of snoring--over the few working speakers. By day three, the engines were running with just enough power to turn the gravity back on, though not nearly enough to move the ship. The head engineer seemed bolstered by their progress, though, and Laurence was willing to take that hope at face value.

The only serious problem was the doors and airlocks, which had developed a worrying tendency to open and close randomly. After a few nearly fatal incidents, Laurence had quickly made it policy for everyone to be strapped into the safety railings at all times, even while in a gravity-positive environment. Moving about was somewhat awkward, but at least no one ran the risk of getting sucked out into space.

For his part, Tharkay was like a phantom, appearing and disappearing all over the ship, critiquing progress and looking for weak spots. He shortly began to drive the crew mad, half of them constantly looking over their shoulder in case Tharkay was lurking behind them, watching for any signs of complacency. When Laurence complained to him, Tharkay had only a toothy smile as excuse. "I thought you were upset that you couldn't keep tabs on me properly, now here you are complaining that I'm too underfoot. Do make up your mind, Captain."

Laurence had left him alone at that, and gone to put his efforts towards something he could actually exercise some amount of control over. He had, however, spent a familiar hour in the officer's mess with Granby, pacing and fuming and trying to remain gentlemanly in the face of overwhelming irritation.

By day four, the combat shifts were beginning to wear on the crew, Laurence included. Though excellent progress was still being made, everyone was snappy and combative, to the point where several fights had broken out over extremely minor provocations. Laurence had thrown every involved party into holding, reasoning that they needed sleep as much as punishment at that point, and locking them away for a few hours would solve both problems.

He was, however, depressingly unable to throw himself into the brig, no matter how deeply he wished for a few hours away from the endless toil of getting Temeraire restarted. Laurence was sure Granby was contemplating a temporary mutiny and throwing him in anyway, and after getting into another foolish argument with Tharkay in which he had actually called the other man out, Laurence was almost tempted to let him. Tharkay had of course ignored his challenge and disappeared again, and as the anger bled out of him Laurence cursed himself for letting his temper get the better of him and likely undoing all the shaky progress he'd made with Tharkay. Granby had certainly agreed, though he'd thankfully refrained from commenting, only grabbed Laurence and hauled him back to quarters with a very firm suggestion that he get some rest and let Granby handle operations.

Laurence disagreed greatly with the idea of resting while there was still work to be done, but cowed somewhat under Granby's darkening expression and agreed to at least stay off the bridge for an hour or two. Granby took the concession as the best he was likely to get, and left with an and left with an air of long-suffering exasperation.Laurence promptly headed down to the core, hoping to cool his temper in Temeriare's newly bright glow.

Unfortunately, he was not the only one--Tharkay had apparently had the same idea. Laurence stood in dumb shock at the sight of his back, outlined by blue light.

Having already noted Laurence's arrival, Tharkay turned partway around and gave him a smile that was part exasperation and mostly sneer. "I suppose it was too much to hope you'd leave me alone for even a few moments, especially when your challenge went so shamefully unanswered."

Laurence, running wholly on fumes, frustration, and the still-raw anger of his last confrontation with Tharkay, found he could not stop himself from storming directly into Tharkay's personal space, though he only just managed to stop himself from grabbing Tharkay by the collar and shaking him within an inch of his life. "It is hardly my fault you are a coward, Mr. Tharkay, and I suggest you stop pretending the ills that have come your way on this journey are anything other than your own damnable fault!"

Tharkay managed to look truly shocked for a moment, as if he hadn't really believed he could provoke Laurence past the point of gentlemanly conduct. Then his sneer sharpened, and he dropped his hands to his sides, clearly ready to fight if the opportunity presented itself. Laurence couldn't deny he'd welcome the chance to brawl as well.

"My deepest apologies, _Captain_ ; next time I am hired to guide an insufferable prick through the blackest reaches of space, I shall make sure to prioritize arcane, outdated rules of _conduct_ ," he spat out the word, "over our survival!"

Laurence reeled back, fully intending to challenge Tharkay again and damn if he tried to weasel out of it, when a sudden shudder rocked the ship badly enough that they both scrambled for footing. Behind them, Temeraire's core was pulsing erratically, emitting waves of light and searing heat that Laurence could feel even through the glass.

"Temeraire!" Laurence rushed toward him, reaching out uselessly towards the core. He was jerked back only inches from the plexiglass by a grip on his jacket, and Tharkay whispered harsh in his ear, "You utter fool, you'll melt your hand off touching that!"

"Laurence!" Temeraire cried out, frightened but focused. "What's happening? Everything hurts, and I can't see."

"Your cynovial systems are still backed up, we didn't expect you to come back online so soon," Tharkay answered, transferring his hold on Laurence's jacket to an iron grip on his upper arm, as though he expected him to make another run for the core, despite the danger. Laurence couldn't totally deny that that was a possibility.

"Tharkay?" Temeraire's voice was strained, a barely suppressed whine of pain. "Are you there with Laurence? Something's wrong, I can't route anything into my heat sinks, and I don't know how to fix it." The temperature was indeed rising rapidly, enough that Laurence could feel his skin tightening as if sunburnt, starting at his still-open palm.

"You'll be fine, Temeraire, we'll get engineering on the problem."

Tharkay pulled insistently on his arm, wrenching him away from the core. "Come on, you can't stand in this heat much longer, we have to get out of here!"

"I'm not leaving him!" Laurence insisted, pulling back. it was a stupid, reckless move, but he couldn't stop himself, drawn to Temeraire like a planet in collapsing orbit. He couldn't abandon Temeraire, not while he was in pain.

Tharkay proved more determined though, and somehow managed to drag Laurence back several feet, just in time for the blast doors to close inches away from his face. "Damn it all!"

Laurence managed to wrench his attention away from Temeraire, and pointed out a maintenance panel out of direct sight of the overheating core. "There!"

Though Laurence was cooperating fully, Tharkay still half-dragged him over to the panel, unwilling or unable to release him just yet. It was cooler out of the pulsing white light, but only just, and the ambient temperature was rising fast enough to be worrying. Laurence was already dripping sweat, and his skin felt painfully red just from the few moments he'd spent in the light.

Laurence popped open the panel and placed his palm on the biolock, but as he reached up to begin a manual override of the airlocks in the inner core, he cried out, abruptly realizing his other hand was a mass of painful blisters, enough so that he couldn't bend his fingers without agony. Apparently just being too close to the core's glass had been enough to cause damage, though he hadn't had the wherewithal to notice it at the time. Tharkay cursed again and finally released Laurence's arm.

"Keep that out of the light as much as you can; I'll key in the overrides, just tell me what to do."

It took bare seconds to lead Tharkay through the override procedures, but in that time the temperature continued to climb noticeably, and Laurence was dizzy enough from the heat that he couldn't see straight any more. The roar from the core and the blaring emergency klaxons were so loud they could barely hear the light chime confirming the override had been entered correctly, but Tharkay was already looking around.

"Where's the manual switch?"

"It's--" Laurence shook his head and tried to focus. "Over there, on the wall." He nodded in the direction of the switch, unable to point with his crippled hand.

Tharkay looked incredulously between him and the switch, which was on the other side of the corridor and in full view of Temeraire's core. "Who--?" He shook his head and muttered something under his breath. "Stay here."

Laurence reached uselessly after him as Tharkay darted towards the switch. "No, wait!" But he was already across the chamber, jacket over his head for what little protection it would offer. Tharkay grabbed the lever, groaning in pain through his teeth loud enough even Laurence could hear it, and then there was a massive implosion as all the air vented out into space. His ears popped painfully, bright points of color burst in his vision, and suddenly Laurence struggled to breathe, even protected as they were from the true vacuum of space. The swimming in his head intensified, and as he fought for consciousness, he could hear Temeraire shouting over the speakers, "Granby! Granby, come quick, please!"

Between one ragged inhale and the next, everything went dark.

\--

Laurence awoke next day in the infirmary, with the lights overhead cheerily drilling into his skull. He groaned and rolled over, slowly starting to catalog the severity of his injuries based on what hurt first. His hand was the worst, even wrapped in cooling gauze, but the rest of his exposed skin wasn't far behind, tight and hot like a sunburn.

"Oh, good," a familiar, sour voice said, "you're awake."

"Though I regret that decision," Laurence replied, still refusing to open his eyes.

Doctor Keynes snorted. "And no wonder; the radiation damage was bad enough, but then you had to go and make your own personal little vacuum to nap in. You're lucky your brain is still in your skull."

"And I truly appreciate your hand in keeping it that way, doctor."

"Speaking of hands, yours is--"

"Laurence!" Temeraire interrupted. "Oh, you're awake! I'll tell Granby right away, he's been so worried!"

"That's quite alright, dear, I wouldn't want him to leave whatever he's--"

"He'll be downstairs in just a moment, don't worry. Oh! And we fixed most everything else, Granby and Emily helped me figure out where the block was in my cynovial systems, though it would have been easier with you around to undo the biolocks. Not that I blame you for being asleep, of course, that was very scary when you were still in the core room. I thought humans weren't supposed to be in space without protections?"

Laurence winced, suddenly strikingly aware of exactly how reckless he'd been. It had been the right decision, of course, but convincing Temeraire it was a one-off was going to be difficult. "Well, no, but it was only for a short time. And besides, Mr. Tharkay was much closer to the core and the vents than I was and--" Laurence abruptly sat up, ignoring the sharp pain in his skull. "Temeraire, where is Mr. Tharkay?"

"Right here." The voice was coming from the other half of the infirmary which, Laurence saw as he opened his eyes, had been blocked off by a sheet. Tharkay pushed it aside and glanced briefly upwards. "Temeraire was very insistent that I stay where he could keep an eye on me."

"He's the largest nursemaid in the universe, I promise you," Laurence replied, and for a moment they grinned at once another, until he recalled everything that had happened to get them in the infirmary in the first place. "Mr. Tharkay, about what happened in the core..." Tharkay's expression melted quickly into neutrality, which caused Laurence no amount of unease. Truly, he had acted exceptionally poorly to have set such a man so quickly on the defensive.

"I would clear the air between us." Laurence slid out of his bed and stood, as straight and steady as he could manage, while Tharkay looked at him apprehensively. "I once again find myself begging forgiveness for my behavior the last few weeks. I have treated you with none of the respect you deserve, and I have in fact let my pride put us all at risk, because I constantly assumed you were acting against our own best interests, which I now know to be as far from the truth as possible. Though I've often found your behavior frustrating, your actions have only ever been honorable, and I am ashamed that it took me so long to see it." Tharkay, who had insisted on being well supplied, who had kept a closer eye on the ship than anyone but Temeraire himself, who had fought side by side with Laurence when they had only ever spoken words of anger to each other.

Tharkay, smirking, who looked at Laurence incredulously, though he hid it well. "A gracious compliment, but somewhat pointless now, as you've made it clear that you have no further wish for my company."

"I spoke those words in anger, perhaps overdone, but not without reason. I cannot tolerate a lack of communication from any person in my service, be they my crew or my guide; it breeds only suspicion and distrust, neither of which we can afford on a journey of any length. But I suspect," Laurence continued, comprehension suddenly dawning, "that you like to be suspected."

Tharkay's mocking incredulity vanished as quickly as his smirk. He shrugged, trying for dismissal. "It suits me to be suspicious, most of the time. I vastly prefer open, predictable unease to fake politeness and poorly-concealed attempts to hide honest opinions."

"Well, you've certainly done a good job of fostering open unease, among both myself and my crew."

"It is hardly the fate of a scoundrel and a vagrant like myself to be well-tolerated by more respectable men and women, to be treated with respect even when one has earned it, or to be sought out for companionship or advice when there are so many more acceptable options instead," Tharkay spat out, for once showing true anger, though it was held in tight check.

Laurence sat down in the chair next to Tharkay's cot, tired of standing even for so short a time. "And am I to assume you would level these accusations at me as well?" Harsh perhaps, but he wouldn't deny Tharkay had some justification to his ire.

"No," he said, scowling at the floor, "but it's become habit to have them ready for when I inevitably need them. What issues we've had, at least, I can be sure that I've had no small part in provoking, and for that I must ask your forgiveness."

Sure now of his path, Laurence held his hand out to Tharkay and stared up into his dark, luminous eyes. "You have it, of course, and if you can believe me to be an honest man, I would ask that we create a new foundation between us. I hope that from now on we will be partners in this journey, and that you can believe that I will offer nothing less than my full loyalty to anyone who gives me theirs in return."

Tharkay stared down at Laurence's upturned palm, expression unguarded and raw. "I am a creature of habit, Captain, but...I suppose I can at least try, especially when given so sincere an offer." He took Laurence's hand with a relaxed movement, but there was nothing casual about his grip, or the hint of a smile raising the corner of his lips.

Laurence, grinning in relief, felt something in his chest release, some tension he hadn't known was curled around his lungs suddenly dissipate, leaving him free to breathe fully for the first time in weeks. "I am glad to hear it, Tharkay; I think I would be sorrier to lose you than I yet know."

**Author's Note:**

> Edited on 1/11 to fix some spacing/continuity errors, and tweak the last scene a bit.


End file.
